


I’ve heard some heavy lies, so say you’re true

by Death2Toby



Series: The "Infinity War Never Ever Happens and Steve and Bucky Get To Recover Verse" [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dissociation, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14824871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death2Toby/pseuds/Death2Toby
Summary: In which Bucky isn’t totally sure what’s real and needs Steve to help him. This leads to bucky bottoming for the first time because obviously that is the only logical course of action.





	I’ve heard some heavy lies, so say you’re true

**Author's Note:**

> i’m not super thrilled about the ending of this, i may try to rework it at some point?? idk.

“Steve,” Bucky whispers hesitantly, nudging the firm shoulder beside him. “Steve,” he says again, a little louder. He’s met with silence, Steve’s chest rises and falls in a slow, uninterrupted rhythm. Bucky’s about to give up, but then Steve starts stirring beside him. 

His eyes blink open and he lifts his head. “Hey, doll,” Steve says, his voice heavy with sleep. He takes a deep breath which turns into a yawn, and Bucky waits patiently for him to wake more fully. “What’s going on,” Steve asks casually, though his hand on Bucky’s cheek is a comfort that Steve must have sensed was needed. 

“Um,” is all Bucky can manage for now. He and Steve had talked about communicating more openly, but it was a learning curve for the both of them. All Bucky really knew in the this moment was that he couldn’t sleep and he needed Steve. 

Much more alert now, Steve turns and wraps the other man in a warm embrace and Bucky leans into it breathing it in. “This still doesn’t feel real sometimes,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me,” Steve replies, pulling back to offer a smile. He sits up, turning on the bedside lamp and fluffing the pillows against the headboard. He grabs Bucky and maneuvers him so that he’s sitting in between his outstretched legs and pulls him tight against his chest. Bucky’s hair has grown out a bit, enough that Steve was able to even it out more, and now he cards his fingers through it gently. 

Bucky leans his head back into the touch and takes a deep breath. “I guess you’ll have to do,” he says. His voice sounds far away, but not sad, not really. 

Steve glances over to the clock and reads 1:03 a.m. “Have you slept at all?”

“For a little while.” They’re quite for a few minutes as Bucky tries to work out what compelled him to wake Steve in the first place. “I wasn’t kidding, you know.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Sometimes… sometimes I wake up and everything feels wrong. I feel like I don’t belong here. I guess tonight I just had to wake you up to make sure you were real.” 

There’s nothing Steve can really say to that. Sure, waking up a century after falling asleep was an adjustment, but it was nothing compared to actually having someone reprogram your brain and take away, well, everything that you are. He leans down and kisses Bucky’s neck, slowly, lets his breath dance out over the sensitive skin there. “I’m right here, Buck.”

Bucky places his hand over Steve’s and squeezes. He tries to keep his mind in the present, away from all of the scrambled maybe-memories, tries not to wonder if this could be some kind of dream or hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first time. He holds onto Steve. Real or not, he knows he should savor this moment. A smile crosses his lips then. Who cares if he belongs here? Who cares if he deserves this? Steve’s always been his, it’s the one constant, the only gift this universe has ever given him, and if he had to go through everything again just to get here, it was a price he would pay all over. 

“Tell me where we are,” Bucky says softly.

Steve thinks for a moment. “We’re in Brooklyn, in our apartment, in our bed. It’s 2018. Everything feels different. I thought you were dead, you thought I was smaller, but you’re here, alive, in my arms. You’ve been through a lot, but you’re getting better. And I love you just like I always have.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Bucky says analytically. But then he leans forward and turns around to kneel between Steve’s legs. He places his hands on either side of Steve’s face, kisses him reverently, deeply, and yeah, that’s real. 

Steve kisses back fervently and can’t stop himself from running his hands down Bucky’s back and settling on his hips. Bucky is bare-chested which only urges Steve on, he forgets for a moment the gravity of the situation. He regains control of himself and pulls back. Now is not the time for this. 

But then Bucky sort of whines at the loss of Steve’s lips and presses in close so maybe it is. Maybe this is exactly what Bucky needs right now. 

Sure enough, Bucky leans in, whispering fiercely, “I want you, Steve.” Well, Steve supposes that counts as open communication, so it’s a win. 

“You can have me,” Steve replies, kissing Bucky again before continuing, “whenever, forever, you can have me.” 

Bucky slides his hands underneath Steve’s t-shirt, pushing it over his head in a practiced motion. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Steve replies, massaging his hands down Bucky’s back before gripping the globes of his ass possessively to illustrate his point further. 

A shiver wracks through Bucky’s body at Steve’s commanding touch and it hits him. He knows so surely what he needs in this moment. Something new, something that hasn’t been tainted or manipulated or used against him, something to ground him in his new life, make it real. So he leans forward brushing his lips along Steve’s jaw as he goes, and he wants to be confident, he wants to tell Steve what he needs, but he’s scared. “Steve…” He swallows before continuing, his voice quiet and shaky, “Steve I need, I want you to…”

“What is it, Buck,” Steve asks, leaning into him encouragingly. 

“Fuck me,” Bucky whispers, in the verge of begging. “Please.”

Steve’s cheeks flush at his lover’s bold request. Christ, it’s not as though he’s never thought about it, but now it’s going to happen and the realization floods him with adrenaline. Then Bucky sort of wiggles nervously in front of him, snapping him out of his head. 

“We don’t have to, if you…” Bucky trails off, leaning back to look Steve in the face.  
yeah  
“Bucky, I want to,” Steve says reassuringly, placing a hand on Bucky’s cheek. 

“You do?” 

Steve takes in the wonder in Bucky’s eyes and now he’s all confidence. “Of course I do,” he purrs, and now it’s his turn to kiss his way back and bite at the other man’s ear lobe. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Buck.” 

Bucky’s skin prickles at Steve’s words, but he can’t help but chuckle with relief as he melts into Steve, skin connecting and sparking to life between them. He feels weightless in this moment. They kiss again, slowly, because they have all the time in the world now. 

Still, Steve is eager, and Bucky doesn’t seem to mind when he dips his fingers beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and slips them off with a bit of help. Bucky’s wearing nothing underneath and there’s something inexplicably hot about it. Steve places his hands on Bucky’s lower back and smooths them down over the milky skin he finds along the way, while his mouth works at marking up Bucky’s neck, shoulders and collar bone. 

“God, Steve, I need you so bad,” Bucky drawls, unable to stop the roll of his hips that follows. 

“I know, I know,” Steve soothes but he’s pushing Bucky back gently, giving himself space to undress and it only takes a few seconds but Bucky hates every second away from Steve. 

Steve’s skin is flushed from cheeks to chest and, well, that’s nothing new, but Bucky still relishes it. If Steve is embarrassed at all there’s no telling it by the way he manhandles Bucky back into their previous arrangement. This time, though, Steve’s legs are closed so that Bucky can straddle him. 

He leans over, showing off his impressive wingspan by opening the nightstand drawer, and fetches the lube. “You know we’ll have to take our time with this part,” Steve says and it almost sounds like a challenge. 

“I’m counting on it.” 

They both take a moment, then, trying to be patient despite the aching need growing stronger in each of them by the second. Steve allows his eyes to trail over the familiar planes of Bucky’s chest and stomach, across his shoulders, and then back up to his face. Bucky looks almost shy in this moment, averting his gaze and with the faintest pink blooming over his cheeks, it’s an expression Steve can’t recall having seen on him before. He hopes it will lead to something even more memorable. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Buck. You’re perfect and I’m so fucking happy we got another chance at this.” 

Bucky leans his forehead against Steve’s. His eyes look wet but he blinks it away. The cold metal of his left hand snakes a teasing trail over Steve’s skin as he replies. “Thank you for taking care of me, Steve.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Steve cajoles, “we haven’t even started.” 

“So get on with it then.”

Steve smiles but it’s mostly to himself. He opens the tube he’d retrieved and begins to slick up his fingers, trying to remember the details of the first time they did this the other way round. It had been long awaited, and perfect even for all the awkward fumbling as the two of them figured things out that no one could have taught them back then. Now, they had the benefit of practice, and comfortability with one another. 

Yes, Steve knows what to do now and how to do it, so he meets Bucky’s eyes and reaches behind him. He wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist, pulling him close and lifting him slightly, as his other hand finds its place, pressing a feather light finger against the other man’s entrance. 

Bucky inhales shakily, gripping Steve’s shoulders, and then he feels the breech of his most intimate part and he can’t contain the needy groan that rises up through him. “Fuck...”

Steve ducks his head, blush deepening. He can’t quite explain why he feels so bashful, and he knows Bucky must sense it even through his confident facade. It’s a privilege to be here, to belong to Bucky, who is practically writhing with just one finger inside him. That’s enough to refocus Steve on his mission, to keep Bucky with him in this moment, to give him what he needs. 

“Okay?” Steve has to ask even though he knows the answer. He doesn’t want to move too fast. 

“Fuck, yes, Steve. Keep going. Please.” 

Encouraged, Steve adds another finger, and allows his mouth to trail over Bucky’s chest, brushing teasingly over each nipple in turn.

“Steve, Steve I’m gonna come just from this,” Bucky pants, almost in warning. They both want more, need more. 

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” He doesn’t realize until after he’s said it that those were the very same words Bucky said to him the first time. The thrill washes over him once again, just as it did a lifetime ago, and judging by Bucky’s drawn out moan, he feels the same. 

Sure, Bucky would like to say something smart, but he doesn’t have it in him right now. “Yeah, please.” 

Steve sends a silent ‘thank you’ skyward because if Bucky had said no he thinks he may have burst. Then, expertly somehow, he he guides Bucky to lie back on the mattress, climbing over him. The man beneath him gasps at the loss of Steve’s fingers, but is soon wriggling with the notion that they will soon be replaced. 

Bucky is laid out before him, his skin smooth as marble, chiseled muscles accented by a thin sheen of sweat in the dim orange light, but somehow, he looks soft. His eyes are sharp and pleading for release, and his chest rises and falls deliberately. Steve’s hand searches Bucky’s chest and stomach as he allows himself a moment of indulgence. His fingers brush through the soft hair beginning just beneath the other man’s navel, creating a trail to his cock. He resists the urge to take it down his throat, smiling up at Bucky instead. 

“Steve, do I have to actually beg,” Bucky groans, gripping Steve’s wrist. He’s clearly trying to sound sarcastic, but honestly it almost looks like he could cry. 

“I’ve got you, Buck,” Steve assures. 

“That’s very charitable of you,” Bucky chokes back as Steve, apparently finding another way to stall for some god forsaken reason, places some pillows beneath his hips. 

Steve slicks himself up, finally, leans forward again hooking one of Bucky’s legs over his shoulder. He kisses Bucky, sucking on his bottom lip briefly, and pushes his hips forward. 

Bucky keens at the blunt pressure, but he relaxes under Steve’s comforting touch and soft kisses along his jaw. 

“Tell me if you need to stop, okay,” Steve whispers seriously. 

Bucky just nods a bit frantically but apparently thats enough. Steve eases himself forward, fighting against his body’s urge to thrust in to the hilt. Slow and steady, he tunes into Bucky, listening to his soft gasps, watching his face for discomfort. If there is any, it’s eclipsed by pleasure and lust. Steve can feel marks forming on his shoulders where Bucky’s hands, the flesh and the metal, are digging in. They’ll be gone by morning, but he appreciates then in the meantime. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve,” Bucky growls as Steve completes his descent. The stretched fullness seems to awaken every nerve ending in his body and if he could form a coherent thought, he would be wondering why he waited so long to ask for this. 

“Bucky...” Steve breathes the word, it’s the only one he can remember at the moment, and the only one that matters. He stills for a few moments, his chest heaving despite his greatest efforts, for both his sake and Bucky’s. The tight heat enveloping him is so very close to tipping him over the edge, but he can’t, not yet. He can feel the other man forcing himself to relax and it feels almost as though they’re meditating, thoughts focused only on the litany of sensations filling them, an experience on a different plane of consciousness. The world around them has long since ceased to exist. “Bucky,” he pants again and it sounds like worship. 

In response, Bucky grips the back of Steve’s neck and pulls him in for a biting kiss, the sharpness of it slicing through the muddled euphoria and Steve feels life breathed into him again, remembers that there’s more to this, that it’s going to get even better. Steve gives a shallow roll of his hips and Bucky all but cries for more. 

That’s all the convincing Steve needs. He sets a steady pace, easy and exquisite. His hands clench the sheets on either side of Bucky while his toes dig in for leverage. Meanwhile, Bucky angles his hips further. He knows from Steve that there’s a spot, tries to imagine what he’d be doing right now to hit it and gets distracted remembering the sounds Steve makes when he does. Fuck he wants to feel that. 

Steve kisses him, his mouth, his jaw, his neck, muttering praises breathlessly, his voice becoming a sweet contrast as he picks up the speed of his thrusts. It’s thanks to the serum and good old force of will that he’s held on this long, but then... 

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky almost screams and Steve knows exactly why. “Right there. Again. _Please._ ” Bucky can feel it radiating from his gut out to the end of each god given limb as his body yearns desirously for Steve to hit that spot again and again and again. 

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve promises, unclenching his fist to place his hand along Bucky’s flushed cheek. He angles each snap of his hips with calculated precision and is rewarded with drawn out crescendoing moans from the man beneath them. Another advantage courtesy of 2018 is that neither of them has to worry about who will hear, the only consequence to their desperate cries is Steve blushing beet red when he walks past his neighbors in the hall. 

He wants it to last forever, but Bucky is only human for all his many “enhancements” suggest otherwise, and judging by the urgency in Steve’s voice, the way his rhythm becomes erratic in an earnest sort of way that belongs to Steve alone, it’s time. Bucky hooks his legs around Steve’s hips and Steve groans in response, driving into Bucky once again. 

Steve moves his hand from Bucky’s face trailing it down and gripping his cock instead. Bucky arches into the contact, a few expert pulls and it’s all over, Bucky paints their stomachs with white streaks, crying out what might be Steve’s name. 

Seconds later, Bucky’s body clenching around him sends Steve to his own release. Stars explode behind his eyelids as his every muscle goes taut and then he’s boneless all at once. There’s a silence to the room suddenly as their moans cease, replaced by ragged but considerably quieter breathing. 

“I love you so much, Buck,” Steve murmurs. 

Bucky can only smile in response. 

Perhaps Steve should consider moving, rather than crushing the love of his life beneath him but there are worse ways to go, and anyway he simply hasn’t the strength. Bucky isn’t complaining, in fact he wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders as tightly as he can manage. 

It’s strange, really. Here they are, the two of them, it’s two thousand and fucking eighteen, Steve is a solid 200 pounds and has the lung capacity of an elephant, Bucky has a god damn metal arm. But it’s real. Bucky has never been more sure. He wants to tell Steve, but he’ll have to thank him in the morning. Steve forces himself off the bed to fetch wash clothes, and Bucky’s asleep by the time he returns. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Heavy Lies by Neck Deep.


End file.
